Sea Out
by SilkenBone922
Summary: The dramatic last scene of Chuck In Real Life from Blair's perspective. CB. "The languid heat running through her veins is wildfire when their lips meet."


Author's Note- Despite my love of CB I rarely write their fics because I feel inadequate at capturing their chemistry in comparison to the other writers. This episode changed that. It shook me. I personally LOVED the ending. There hasnt been an episode that CB has owned this wholly since Victor Victrola. Do you realize both episodes are the seventh in their respective seasons? Maybe it's their number. PLEASE REVIEW!

It's the second time in Blair Waldorf's life that she's waited for a boy. Sitting on her bed wearing lingerie, surrounded by candles- waiting. She can't help but think how different both times are.

She'd worn pale pink as she waited for Nate. It was light and floating and she was more nervous than she'd ever been before. Scared, excited and blushing. Like a bride on her wedding, she thought fondly. A small smile played on her lips as he walked into the room.

Her Prince Charming comes to save her, to allay her fears. To take her into his arms and make her his. Her heart felt like it would burst from love. She felt like this was the moment she'd been waiting for all her life.

The look on his face started up the apprehension. If Blair were the kind of person who was honest with herself she would admit that her love for Nathaniel Archibald died.

It's hard to asses which part of his confession truly broke her heart. Was it the acknowledgement of his betrayal or that of his partner in crime?

Waiting for Chuck is different. So, very different. Part of her had wished Nate would never make it that night because she was so terrified of the prospect of his making love to her.

It's not like that with Chuck. Though truthfully she almost wishes it were. If only a small part of her were hesitant, she could call this off. But she can't. He's not even here yet and every nerve in her body is alive, humming with anticipation.

The minutes trickle by painfully, excruciatingly slow. And then there he is before her. And the look on his face puts an end to all preening and coquettishness- the affectations that are second skin to her. His gaze strips her of her mask and he has already claimed her, marked her as his own in ways so intimate and powerful that she can't comprehend it so she pretends it doesn't exist.

His dark eyes run up her body to meet her own. The look they share now is raw and electric and loaded with meaning. All of a sudden there is a deadly seriousness to every word they speak and every move they make.

"What took you so long?" Her lips can barely move because she's trembling on the inside. It's a struggle to control the shiver that's running down her spine and he hasn't even laid a finger on her yet.

"If you thought that was long you have no idea what you're in for." For a crazy wild moment she misses the old Chuck, who would have accompanied his mock threat with a smirk and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

He sheds his jacket with painstaking care. She slips an arm around his neck to draw him closer as he kneels into the bed. The languid heat running through her veins is wildfire when their lips meet.

She's melting into his touch as they tumble on to her bed. This is the first time they've been together after so long. No one ever makes her feel the way he does; she's learnt that in their time apart.

Their reunion is bittersweet and it feels terribly important. It's like being stranded in a desert and realizing the mirage is real. But you were so convinced it wasn't you didn't reach out and take what was right in front of you all along.

It's torture for her when he pulls away. She really does mean it she says she'll say anything because her brain is all hazy. He's completely overwhelmed her senses and she's dragging his mouth back to hers.

Perhaps it gratification that makes him kiss her again before breaking their embrace. Because it is once more evident how quickly he can get her over the edge.

It's nothing short of a heart attack for her when he throws her own words back in her face. The unspoken sentiment is echoing from the walls of her haven. She reviews the options carefully- "I want you" or "I need you".

She dead pans- "Are you kidding?" to disguise her pounding heart.

Three words, eight letters. The ticket to possession- Say them and I'm yours.

"But I'm already yours and you're ruining the mood with all this talk!" The words rush out of her mouth before she has the time to think them through. She tries and fails to think of her admission as a way into his pants and not a Freudian slip.

The sadness on his face is unbearable and she is enraged by his not being prepared to settle." Clearly, she is and she's Blair. She's just about the most demanding person on the planet.

She also thinks it incredibly unfair- cruel even- that he should get her blood going before initiating this little interlude. She can't tell whether its stubbornness or frustration that chooses what she says next. In hindsight it could have been more kindly put, but in hindsight giving him what he wanted doesn't sound so bad either. She's almost tender as she lingers over his name before crushing the hope that she knows is lingering behind his stoic façade.

"Then you will never have me." It's like a death sentence. He's on his feet in an instant, tugging on the coat he only just discarded. She mentions Vanessa in a desperate need to assure herself that she still the only woman for him. The irony of his actually having fallen for Brooklyn trash as a result of her bet would be fatal.

He wanted to raise the stakes. As hot and bothered as he was his words still had the power to thrill her. To chill her because of the deadly earnestness in his voice and the aloof look on his face. It was liek nothing she'd ever seen before in her life.

She's still as a statue as he leaves the room. It's the second time in Blair Waldorf's life that she's waited for a boy. Sitting on her bed wearing lingerie, surrounded by candles- waiting.

And it's the second time that her almost lover has walked away. She doesn't weep or flail about in anguish as she did the time before. She's terrified of the implications of his little speech and she disgruntled by his assumption that she would actually chase him.

But the feeling that triumphs over all the others is the knowledge that everything has changed. This thing they have has broken into something new and she's in dangerous unfamiliar waters. And this time neither of them can afford to screw it up. Because the price is each other. Let the games begin.


End file.
